


Up Against the Wall My Love

by eragon19



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bottom John, Established Relationship, M/M, Massage, Push Ups, Sherlock working out, Strong Sherlock, Top Sherlock, Wall Sex, and John watching, exercise as therapy, pull ups
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 14:57:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15075596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eragon19/pseuds/eragon19
Summary: Sherlock puts his new muscles to good use





	Up Against the Wall My Love

**Author's Note:**

> For Sarah.

“I’m off to work, Sherlock!” John called, clattering down the stairs from his old bedroom. 

He ducked into the kitchen, grabbed a muffin from the container Mrs Hudson had dropped off yesterday, and headed toward the door.

In the living room he stopped dead in his tracks. Sherlock was at it _again,_ and John was absolutely _thrilled_. He took a bite of his muffin and leaned against the kitchen doorway, taking a moment to admire the activity Sherlock was up to. 

Sherlock had one hand planted firmly on the floor and his other hand tucked against the small of his back as he engaged in a series of perfectly executed pushups. To make things even more impressive, his feet were up on the seat of his chair for extra resistance. Luckily (in John’s opinion) Sherlock preferred exercising without a shirt, which meant John got to see every muscle flex and bunch as Sherlock worked out.

Like now. 

John licked his lips as he watched the muscles of Sherlock’s back ripple and flex with each powerful thrust off the floor. He felt his cheeks heat as he remembered just how powerful Sherlock’s thrusts could be. Shaking the thought form his head he turned his attention to Sherlock’s sculpted biceps. 

“John,” Sherlock said, cutting into john’s quiet ogling, “Aren’t you late?”

He flicked a glance up at John, his face wet with sweat. John glanced at the stove clock and swore. That’s what he got for stopping to stare! 

“Bye Sherlock!” he shouted over his shoulder, smiling at the winded chuckle that followed him down the stairs. 

 

***

 

It had all started when Sherlock had returned from the dead. He’d shown up at the surgery, torn off a stupid disguise, and then caught John when he fainted at the sight of his dead friend standing before him.

Things had been _ difficult _ after that. While John was elated to have Sherlock back, he was also furious that the man had lied to him for two years. He’d still moved back to Baker street though and slowly, they began to heal. Through late night talks in the dark living room John had learned what happened to Sherlock. He saw the scars, he heard the man screaming in the night and went to wake him. He knew how nightmares fucked with your head.

It was the nightmares that worried John the most and he’d taken to waiting for them. He’d lie in bed and listen to the clock tick as he waited for the screaming. When it came, he’d hustle down stairs and wake Sherlock as gently as he could. After a few nights, he began pulling Sherlock close and holding him as he shook. Then he’d taken staying in bed with him and helping him fall back asleep. One morning John had woken to soft sunlight and Sherlock staring at him. They regarded each other in silence, then Sherlock leaned in and kissed him.

The kiss didn’t magically fix things. This wasn’t a fairytale or romance novel. It did however give John the confidence to bring up seeing a therapist to Sherlock. At first the man had been resistant, but after John had pointed out it was his own therapist who’d encouraged his blogging, Sherlock had relented. He actually made an appointment with Ella herself. 

It was Ella who suggested the exercising. She’d said it would help tire him out enough to sleep, and combat the boredom that made him so intolerably listless. To John’s surprise, Sherlock had taken to the idea. He refused to do something so plebeian as go to the  _ gym.  _ Instead he took up fencing, which he’d learned at Eton, and working out at home.

John needed to remember to send Ella flowers as a thank you for that last bit. 

So now here they were; a newly toned Sherlock egar to use his new muscles to  _ take care  _ of John.

 

***

A few days later found John climbing the stairs back to the flat after lunch with Harry. He could hear Sherlock’s labored breathing from the top of the stairs and smiled to himself. He was in for another treat. The living room was empty, which made John’s smile widen; it meant Sherlock was engaged in John’s favourite exercise. Well his favourtie to watch.

Turning into the kitchen, he was greeted by a magnificent sight. Sherlock’s glove covered fingers were coiled around a bar suspended in the doorway that led to their bedroom. His biceps bulged as he pulled himself up and down in a smooth, even rhythm. John let his eyes wander downward taking in the definition of Sherlock’s pectorals. He skipped his favourite part, teasing himself, and took in Sherlock’s long pajama clad legs. They were bent at the knee, his toes curling with each upward movement. His pants had slid down a bit, revealing the cut V of his hip bones.

Finally John let his eyes reach Sherlock stomach,the part of him that showed just how seriously he’d taken his new hobby. The smooth skin was sculpted into simerical pads of muscle. He wasn’t bulky by any means but, thanks to lighter weights coupled with more reps, he’d gotten the sleek, lean muscle that suited his frame perfectly. 

John watched, enraptured, as Sherlock finished his set and dropped lightly to his feet. He grinned at John as he snagged a bottle of water from the countertop and downed half in one go.

“Enjoying the view?” Sherlock asked.

John laughed and nodded, leaning in for kiss. Sherlock happily obliged, one long hand cupping the back of John’s head.  

“How’s Harry?” he asked, yanking off his gloves and flexing his fingers. 

Caught by the curling of Sherlock’s fingers, it took John a moment to answer.

“She’s doing well. Has a new girlfriend.” 

Sherlock hummed in acknowledgement as he began his after workout stretches. Twisting his torso left and right, then pulling his arms straight over his head and rocking up onto his toes until every muscle was pulled taught. Sherlock groaned in relief then dropped his stance, coming face to face with an aroused John Watson. He chuckled, and John came back to the present, his face pink.

“How about Angelo’s tonight?” Sherlock said, a satisfied smile in his face.

Of course he was bloody satisfied to have John olging like a school boy. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

“Alright. Well I’m off to shower.”

John nodded and headed over to turn on the kettle. 

“John?” 

John turned back to see Sherlock at the bathroom door, smirking at him. 

“Aren’t you going to help me? My muscles are so  _ sore  _ after pullups.”

John felt a smirk of his own bloom across his face as he hurried down the corridor after Sherlock. 

 

****

John yawned and scrubbed a knuckle over his eye as he climbed out of the cab. His day had been shit; he’d been asked to work a double shift at the last minute, then every patient who’d come in had been particularly whiney. To top it off, his final patient had been and old man who’d kept John back and entire half a hour, insisting his cold was pneumonia.

He trudged up the stairs of Baker Street with relief, thinking about the leftover cantonese in the fridge and how perfect it would be with an icey beer. The flat was currently Sherlock free. John put his food in the microwave and took a long drag of his beer. He was thumbing out a text to Sherlock, when their bedroom door swung open and the man himself strode into the kitchen.

“There you are!” Sherlock said, flopping onto a kitchen chair and stealing John’s beer out his hand. 

“Hello to you too,” John said, grabbing another beer and scooping his steaming food out of the microwave.

Sherlock winked at him, making John grin before he shoveled a bite of food into his mouth.

“You’re last client was an idiot,” Sherlock pronounced as John chewed.

John nodded, washing his food down with a swig of beer. “Go on then.”

Sherlock drained the last of his beer before he answered.

“Well, it’s fairly obvious-

“As always,” John cut in with a wink of his own.

“You were forty-five minutes late when you never stay late after you work a double. You were working the last shift tonight, which Sarh never works, so it wasn’t her holding you up to chat. It must have been a client. I say he’s an idiot because you’re grumpier than usual which means he must have been insisting he had an ailment he didn’t.”

“I’m not grumpy,” John said, furrowing his brow.

Sherlock gave him a flat look.

“Well I’m not  _ that  _ grumpy.”

Sherlock stole a piece of chicken off his plate without saying a word, and John felt a smile spread over his face despite his best efforts.

“Brilliant as always, of course,” he said.

Sherlock looked at him through his lashes and preened.

Sherlock stood and shed his suit jacket, before wandering over to the living room.

“Massage after dinner?”

“I’d love that!” John said, his smile widening.

***

After dinner and a shower, John walked into the living room clad in nothing but his pajama bottoms. Sherlock smiled at him as he shut his laptop and grabbed the bottle of oil from the desk. John settled onto his chair as Sherlock cracked open the bottle and warmed the gel in his hands.

John sighed as Sherlock’s large hands slicked his shoulders and began kneading the muscles. He let out a groan and dropped his head forward when the front of Sherlock’s palms dug in hard. Sherlock worked his way slowly from the sides of John’s neck to the edges of his shoulders, paying special attention to the knots at his shoulder blades. 

“God that feels good,” John whispered when Sherlock’s thumbs dug into the base of his skull.

Soon, John sat boneless in his chair, his knots gone and muscles loose. Sherlock’s hands were still sliding over his oil slicked skin. More caressing than massaging, not that John was complaining. John’s eyes fluttered open as Sherlock’s thums slid over his nipples, circling them with his oil smooth thumbs. 

John let out a moan as he took them between his thumbs and forefingers, pinching gently. 

“Bedroom?” Sherlock asked, his voice subsonic.

John could do nothing but nod, as Sherlock pulled him out of his chair and led him away.

In the bedroom Sherlock stripped himself hurriedly, before tugging off John’s pants and backing him against the wall, pulling John into a deep kiss. 

John moaned and wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s shoulders. Their torsos slid together, his oiled nipples rubbing tantalizingly against Sherlock’s. He kissed his way down Sherlock’s neck, biting and licking his way to Sherlock’s shoulder. 

Sherlock moaned, his head falling back and his hands wandering to John’s arse giving it a hard squeeze.

“Just one moment John,” Sherlock whispered, pulling away, “We need lube.”

“No, no. Stay there.” Sherlock said with a smile, stopping John’s movement towards the bed. “I have plans.”

John leaned his shoulders against the wall and smiled lazily as Sherlock took him back into his arms, a bottle of lube clutched in one hand. Sherlock kissed him again and there was the click of a cap opening, before lubed fingers were sliding over John’s hole.

John shivered, his mouth opening against Sherlock’s neck as those fingers teasing circled and rubbed until he loosened. Then one finger was sliding into him. John gasped and clutched at Sherlock’s shoulders, his nails digging in as Sherlock slowly rocked into him. God his fingers were so  _ long.  _

Sherlock’s chuckle made John realize he said that last bit out loud. 

“If only my violin teacher realized what those finger strengthening exercises would be good for.” 

John groaned and pressed his face against Sherlock’s chest.

“Less talking more-

He thrust his arse against Sherlock’s finger to finish his sentence. 

Sherlock chuckled again, then cold lube was drizzling down John’s crack, making him gasp. Before he could complain, Sherlock’s fingers were dragging through the lube and then two were sliding into him. 

Sherlock ducked down for kiss, sliding his tongue into John’s mouth as his fingers pumped slowly and steadily into him. John’s hands traced up Sherlock’s back, enjoying the flex of taut muscle under his palms. 

“God yes,” John hissed, as those fingers slid smoothly over his prostate. 

Sherlock added a third finger and John lost his breath.

“Don’t you want to know why we’re still standing John?”

John moaned as Sherlock tapped three quick beats against that spot inside him. 

“It’s so,” Sherlock’s tongue glided up his neck, “I can fuck you nice and hard against this wall.”

John swallowed and yanked Sherlock down for a hard kiss.

“God yes Sherlock, please.”

Sherlock’s eyes gleamed as he spread his fingers inside John, stretching him slowly. John panted hard and buried his face in Sherlock’s sweaty neck, letting the pleasure wash over him.

“Ready?” Sherlock whispered, slowly sliding his fingers out of John.

John nodded, then kissed Sherlock hard. Sherlock hooked a hand around each of John’s thighs and hoisted him upward, taking a large step back so John’s back was pressed against the wall.

John gasped and wrapped his legs around Sherlock’s wasit, deepening the kiss. 

“I might need a bit of help to..

Sherlock mumbled against his lips, nodding down toward his cock. John nodded and reached to line him up with his hole, when impish inspiration took hold. Wrapping one hand around Sherlock cock, he gave him a long, hard stroke. 

Sherlock moaned and his arms trembled dangerously. Undertered, John stroked him again, enjoying the way Sherlock’s eyes clenched closed and his lips trembled.

“John! John, this isn’t part of the pl _ an _ !” Sherlock gasped, his arms tightening around John’s thighs.

John chuckled but stopped his torture. He gave Sherlock a kiss on the forehead and gently lined his cock up to his entrance. Sherlock tensed his thighs and rocked upward slightly. Both of them gasped as the head of Sherlock’s cock stretched John open. 

“Keep going,” John said, his breathing ragged.

Sherlock nodded, sweaty curls bobbing and thrust up again. John’s mouth dropped open as Sherlock slid in deeper. Sherlock swallowed hard and held still for a moment, letting John adjust.

John kissed him again, deep and messy, as Sherlock slowly began to rock in and out him. The position made his thrusts shallow, but the angle made his cock drag over  _ all  _ the right spots. 

John humed in pleasure, looking at Sherlock with heavy lidded eyes. The man’s eyes were locked onto his and squinted with concentration. His biceps were fully flexed and hard under John’s fingers as he supported John’s weight. Looking down, John could see his abdominals bunching and stretching powerfully with each thrust. The sight was absolutely delicious, and ratched John’s pleasure higher. 

“God, you’re sexy,” John gasped.

Sherlock smirked and gave a surprisingly powerful thrust, considering his position, that made John moan and shudder hard. He adjusted the angle of John’s hips and trusted again. This time John’s vision went white as Sherlock’s cock dragged over his prostate. His fingers tangled in Sherlock’s curls as the man continued hitting just the right spot.

“Come on, John,” Sherlock panted, giving him a biting kiss.

John’s hands tightened on Sherlock’s shoulders, his thighs tensing around Sherlock’s body. He just need a little more and he’d come. Giving Sherlock’s waist a squeeze with his thighs, he wrapped one hand around his own cock and started pumping it in time with Sherlock’s thrusts. 

Their eyes locked again, and John clenched around Sherlock’s cock, wanting to see the man finish. Sherlock’s eyes clamped shut and his lips parted as John tightened around him on each outward movement. 

John sped up the movement of his own hand, chasing that little spark he needed to come. Sherlock began moaning in the particular way he did right before he orgasmed. John pushed his shoulders against the wall and dropped down hard. Sherlock grunted sharply under him and then he was coming, his arms shaking. John kept his eyes locked on Sherlock face, watching the show as his strokes became frantic. Finally with a shout, he came hard, his head dropping back against the wall.

He came back to himself with Sherlock wobbling under him.

“Let me down love,” John said, his voice soft.

Sherlock gently set him on his feet, his hands curling around John’s hips to steady him.

“You’re amazing, you are,” John said, stretching up on tiptoe to plant a soft kiss on Sherlock’s lips.

Sherlock gave him a tired smile. His curls were stuck to his forehead with sweat and he was panting hard. Cum was streaked over his belly and dripping between the ridges of his abbs. John licked his lips. He wanted to lick the cum from Sherlock’s body, but first he needed the man to lie down. He must be tired after holding him up for so long.

Pushing Sherlock flat onto the bed, he gave him another soft kiss and planted soft kisses along that pale throat. Sherlock sighed happily under him, relaxing against the mattress.

“Absolutely spectacular,” John murmerd, kissing his way lower and dragging his tongue over Sherlock belly. 

Sherlock shuddered as John pointed his tongue and dipped into Sherlock’s navel. He, flicked his eyes up, watching Sherlock’s face as he cleaned him with long, slow strokes.

“As were you,” Sherlock said.

He reached for John and pulled him close, kissing him. 

“Legs ok?” 

Sherlock nodded, eyes shut. John smiled and kissed the tip of Sherlock’s nose, making the man smile with his eyes closed. He pressed closer to Sherlock and dragged the duvet over them both, then wrapped his arms around his sleepy detective. 

As he settled down to sleep, his eyes fell on the spot of wall he’d just been fucked against. A satisfied smile spread over John’s face. They’d definitely have to revisit that position in the future. Then again, there were so many positions Sherlock’s new strength opened up for them, but there was no need to think about that now. He and Sherlock had time to play as much as they wanted. 

They had all the time in the world. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Work out to make out](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15127199) by [Readingfanfics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Readingfanfics/pseuds/Readingfanfics)




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